


the kindness of strangers

by deathsweetqueen



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2018 [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky saves the day, Established Relationship, Evil Towns, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Small Towns, Tony Stark Bingo 2018, Tony is Almost Sacrificed to the Earth, brief explicit sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 13:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16893201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: “This is no way to travel,” Tony grumbles, the heat making his neck uncomfortably sweaty.Bucky sighs. “That’s the fifth time you’ve said that.”“That’s how pissed I am,” Tony declares.Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand, while the other hand holds onto the steering wheel.“All I’m saying is that I don’t think this is the sort of mission the Avengers should be handling, and even if it was, there are better ways to travel to the site of the mission.”“Look, I don’t disagree,” Bucky says, tentatively, and clearly, he’s learnt that Tony can andwillseize on the slightest thing. “This isn’t the most comfortable way of getting places, considering what we have at our disposal. But if we took the Quinjet or you carried me halfway across the country in your suit, we’d just draw attention to ourselves. This is a very delicate mission, babe.”Or alternatively, Tony almost gets sacrificed to the earth to save a harvest and Bucky's just so fucking done with everything.





	the kindness of strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Damsels (and Others) in Distress) square for the Tony Stark Bingo 2018.

“This is no way to travel,” Tony grumbles, the heat making his neck uncomfortably sweaty.

Bucky sighs. “That’s the fifth time you’ve said that.”

“That’s how pissed I am,” Tony declares.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand, while the other hand holds onto the steering wheel.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t think this is the sort of mission the Avengers should be handling, and even if it was, there are better ways to travel to the site of the mission.”

“Look, I don’t disagree,” Bucky says, tentatively, and clearly, he’s learnt that Tony can and _will_ seize on the slightest thing. “This isn’t the most comfortable way of getting places, considering what we have at our disposal. But if we took the Quinjet or you carried me halfway across the country in your suit, we’d just draw attention to ourselves. This is a very delicate mission, babe.”

“You’re always on everyone else’s side but mine,” Tony complains.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “And you’re always such a drama queen.”

He jolts a little when Tony palms the inside of his jean-clad thigh. “You like me when I’m being a drama queen; don’t deny it,” he drawls, fluttering his eyelashes.

Bucky bites his lip and finally sighs. “You’re not completely wrong,” he says, grudgingly.

“Of course, I’m not,” Tony says, smugly, scraping his short, filed nails against the denim. “So, two people have gone missing in April every year for the last twenty-four years over this small, very specific stretch of road. That’s shady as fuck.” He mutters, flicking through the pages of the file.

“What I can’t understand is why they sent _us_ for this,” Bucky muses. “I mean, you’re a tech genius with a very obvious mechanical suit of armour, and I’m an assassin. Wouldn’t Bruce or Natasha be better off?”

“Excuse you, are you saying you _don’t_ like the armour?” Tony demands, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tony,” Bucky sighs.

“No, don’t say anything else. Now I know how you _really_ feel,” Tony huffs.

“You are such a drama queen, Stark,” Bucky groans. “God knows why I’m in love with you.”

Tony snorts. “Oh, please, my arse is tight as fuck and I routinely suck your brains out through your dick. Not to mention, that arm is custom-made, Winter Sonata. Keep dreaming if you think you’re going to find a better catch than me.”

He lets Bucky stew on that for a moment, raising his eyebrow, expectantly.

“Okay, you may have made a good point.”

“That’s what I thought.” Tony waggles his eyebrows.

As ominous as possible, the engine of their car begins to sputter.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Tony declares, unhappily.

Bucky pulls up on the side of the road, bringing the car to a stop with an unfavourable noise.

He exhales. “Well, isn’t that suspicious,” he says, dryly.

“You mean our car that miraculously stopped on the exact stretch of road where people go missing every year. I think suspicious is an understatement,” Tony huffs.

“So, what do we do now?” Bucky turns to Tony. “You want to call for help?”

“Actually,” Tony says, slowly. “This might be a good opportunity.”

Bucky grimaces. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

“All I’m saying is that clearly something happened to the victims on this stretch of road, and now whoever’s behind this is setting us up to be the next victims. I think we should take advantage of it.”

“And if it’s like poison gas,” Bucky demands. “We’d just be sitting ducks.”

“You got a better idea?” Tony fixes him with a grim look.

“Tony,” Bucky sighs, covering his face with his hands.

“What, Bucky? What? What else can we do?”

“We can try and get the fuck out of here before we get taken out like sitting ducks,” Bucky snaps.

“And how do you suppose we do that? Just march along this highway the same way we came until we miraculously come across _more_ humans that are _not_ going to kill us. Yeah, good idea, Bucky. That’s some great thinking.”

“Why do you always have to be such a dick when you don’t get your own way?” Bucky groans.

_Because I’m usually right and no one ever listens to me._

“Because you’re not seeing the great opportunity we have here,” Tony insists. He gentles his voice and places his hand on Bucky. “I know. It’s probably not smart, but I don’t think we have another option anymore, Bucky. If this is them, they’ve already kind of trapped us here.”

“You have your suit; we could fly away,” Bucky says, dryly. “We’re not in as much hot water as you’re thinking.”

Tony shrugs. “We don’t know why the car stopped. Equally, we don’t know what they’re capable of doing to my suit. Plus, I don’t want it in the wrong hands. Better to hold onto it right now.”

“Fine,” Bucky huffs. “So, we just wait here and hope for the best?”

Tony bites his lip. “We could have sex?” he offers.

Bucky spits out the water he was chugging and stares at him, blankly. “That’s seriously what you’re thinking of right now?” he asks, sceptically.

“I’m pretty much always thinking about sex with you,” Tony confesses.

“Tony, doll, this seems like really bad timing for sex,” Bucky says, a little hysterically.

“But what if we die, Bucky Bear?” Tony whines. “Are you really going to deny me last-day-alive sex?”

“Even more of a reason not to get caught with our pants down.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Wow, they'll see something that the tabloids already published like fifteen years ago. That's such a terrible thing,” he says, dryly.

Bucky stares at him. “You are like the least romantic person I know.”

Tony stretches, drawing attention to the lean line of his body. “That's how I roll, babe.”

Bucky still looks unconvinced, so Tony sighs, slinking closer.

“Come on, Bucky,” he cajoles, running a hand up the inside of Bucky’s thigh until he’s palming his already half-hard cock in his jeans.

Bucky groans, but Tony doesn’t miss the fact that he can’t take his eyes off him, especially when Tony deftly opens the button of his jeans, releasing the zipper. Bucky runs his tongue over his lower lip, eyes going hazy with want, when Tony reaches inside his boxer briefs and pulls out his heavy cock, running with pre-come.

Tony hears the seat crack under Bucky’s hands when he sinks his mouth down onto Bucky’s cock.

* * *

“Tony. Tony!” Bucky hisses, insistently, tapping Tony on the hip.

Tony looks down, panting visibly, his hands propped on Bucky’s shoulder as he cants his hip downwards to meet Bucky’s equally punishing thrusts.

“What?” he demands, a little frustrated by Bucky’s abrupt halt.

“Someone’s coming!”

Tony makes a noise of frustration, but pulls off nonetheless, sinking back into his passenger seat, as he rebuttons his jeans and waits for Bucky to pull himself together.

Bucky grunts and stretches. “Forget the villains of the day, I may die from blue balls.”

“You and me both, babe. You and me both.” Tony shifts. “I love you, you know. I may sound like an arsehole every now and then, but I do love you.”

Bucky softens and reaches for him. Tony goes willingly and sighs, a knot loosening in his chest when Bucky starts to thread his fingers through Tony’s messy, unkept hair.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

Tony turns around in the seat and peers over the edge of the trunk of the car. There are people approaching them: an older man and woman, along with a teenage girl and a young boy, not older than ten.

“Hi there!” he calls out, cheerfully, mentally cataloguing them as threats.

He absentmindedly pats Bucky’s thigh when he feels him going tense beside him.

“Did your car break down?” the teenage girl asks, curiously, coming up beside their convertible.

“Yeah, it did.” Tony makes a face. He smacks the dashboard with a mock noise of frustration, channelling his own frustrated libido, and mentally apologises to the car. “Stupid piece of crap.”

The old man clucks his tongue and stares down at them kindly, like he’s one of the grandfathers who sits on a rocking chair on a porch and whittles the day away.

_Yeah, I’ll bet you are._

“Have you had a chance to look under the hood?”

Tony clucks his tongue. “Yeah, nothing doing, I guess.” He smacks Bucky, half-heartedly. “I told _this one_ we should get the car checked out before we started this trip, but _he_ disagreed.”

Bucky rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Yeah, might have dropped the ball on that one.”

The old man nods. “Well, we can take you back to our town. Find you a mechanic and a good meal while you wait. How does that sound?”

“Brilliant,” Tony gushes. “James, you in?”

“Yep,” Bucky nods, immediately. “That sounds amazing. Thank you so much.”

Bucky gives them one of those Forties, wouldn’t melt butter in your mouth grins. It has the effect that Tony imagined it would, that it _always_ has: both the old woman and the teenage girl blush and look down at their feet.

 _That’s my Bucky Bear_ , Tony thinks, proudly.

“Well, come on, then. Might as well get out of here before all the animals creep out of the forest, looking for you.”

“Good idea,” Tony says, cheerfully and jumps out of the car, followed by Bucky.

They entwine their hands, just to see if they’ll get a reaction. The old man’s eyes wander downwards to where they’re linked, and his face tightens, just the slightest, but Tony catches it. The old man’s face smoothens out and he smiles, just like Santa Claus, and gestures for them to follow him.

* * *

Surprise, surprise, the mechanic tells them it’s going to take an entire day and night to fix their car, and surprise, surprise, the kind old man, William, that found them, who also happens to be the lord and master of their little prairie town, offers them lodging and food for the rest of their stay.

“You’d be doing us a favour,” he declares, laughing. “My wife, Carla, she always makes too much food.”

Tony and Bucky exchange a look.

“Well, with an offer like that, how could we ever refuse?”

So, that’s how they end up sitting at a dining table opposite this family who’d been so kind to take them in.

At least the food’s good.

“So, Anthony, what do you do?” William asks, curiously.

Tony blinks. “Oh, I’m an engineer.”

Natasha always says stick closer to the truth – that way, it’s harder to catch you in a lie.

William smiles. “Oh, that’s lovely. Not the type of engineer that works with cars, though, I imagine,” he jokes.

Tony forces himself to smile, resisting the urge to immediately blurt out that _I could knock down and rebuild every piece of shit thing you got here in this town and make it ten times as good._

“No, I usually work with, uh, military stuff,” he explains, lowering his voice.

“Oh, well, that sounds fun.”

_Yeah, if you think making bombs that blow up in your face and give you potentially terminal heart conditions is fun, sure._

“It is,” Tony agrees. “Plus, the pay’s good, which is a bonus.”

“What about you, James? What do you do?” William’s daughter, Mary, asks, turning her besotted eyes on Bucky, who swallows down whatever he was chewing and looks at her like a deer caught in headlights.

Tony isn’t jealous or anything. One, the girl is most likely jailbait and Bucky _cannot-must not_ touch, and two, well, Tony gets it.

Bucky is a beautiful specimen of humanity, even with an arm missing, and frankly, the metal arm just makes Tony want to throw him down on the ground and ride his cock until the cows come home all the more.

Bucky clears his throat. “I’m in security. I, uh, was in the army, but, uh, honourable discharge after my arm.” He taps the prosthetic with the skin sleeve that he wears on missions.

“And how long have you two been together?” Carla asks.

Tony looks at Bucky, who shrugs. “Oh, uh, about a year and a half now.”

“And no wedding bells in the future?”

Tony chokes on his water. Bucky, thankfully or gleefully, pounds him on the back until he stops coughing.

“You’d have to ask him that,” he wheezes, flashing a thumb at Bucky, who glares at him.

_Yeah, not so cool from the other side, huh, arsehole._

Bucky grits his teeth, but to his credit, recovers quite quickly. “He’s just joking; we were thinking of waiting a couple of months. We’re both just so busy right now. It’s better to wait so we have a good time and we can remember having a good time, without all the stress. Right, Tony?”

“You got it, babe.” Tony leans in and kisses Bucky on the cheek.

Carla stares at them, fondly. “Well, aren’t you two sweet like sugar?” she gushes.

Tony laughs, a little stunted. “We try.” He leans in. “Listen, we really appreciate what y’all are willing to do for some strangers you found on the highway.”

William waves it off. “Oh, no need to thank us. In this day and age, a little kindness goes a long way.”

“You got that right!”

They clink their glasses together.

* * *

Tony’s head is swimming when he finally manages to muster the strength to open his eyes. He groans, raising his hand to clutch at his pounding head when something forcibly yanks his wrist back. His vision is blurry, but he can still somehow see the thick, yellowed rope around his wrists, holding him up the air to the point where he’s only balancing on the balls of his feet.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Tony looks up to see the outline of a man approaching him. The closer he gets, the more he looks like William.

_I knew it. I fucking knew it._

“What-what’s going on?” he slurs, the words coming out like syrup and dirt.

William clucks his tongue. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’ll all be over soon.”

Tony chuckles, dryly. “Why don’t you humour me?”

“Very well,” William sighs. “I’ll humour you. Honestly, it’s pretty simple. Sacrifices are healthy. They keep the town in order.”

“Sac-sacrifices? Are you fucking kidding me? To who?” Tony demands.

William shrugs. “No one. Well, that’s not completely correct. The earth.”

Tony sways forward. “What the fuck do you mean by the _earth_?”

William sighs and pulls up a chair in front of Tony. “I hope you’ll forgive me. Old bones and all.” He sinks down with a groan of relief. “It’s very simple, you see. Our town thrives on the harvest we pull. We sell whatever we gather, and that’s what puts the coin in our treasury. But for a period, decades ago, the harvest was nothing. We couldn’t sell anything; the town was ruined, and so many of us starved. So, my father, the mayor before me, posed a potential solution, fearing we had angered the earth beneath us, and it worked. They did it, intermittently, of course, to check how genuine it was, but it always worked. So, it became somewhat of a town practice, for the last twenty-five or so years.”

“Why the tourists, though?” Tony breathes.

“Well, tourists are easier to explain away, you see. Sometimes, the police will come around, but we dismantle their cars and there’s usually no evidence of any of them even being here. The police move on and we’re all safe.”

Tony squints his eyes. “Did _you_ stop our car?”

“Yes and no. There’s some sort of barrier, just around where you were forced to pull over. It was there long before we had any problems with the harvest. It’s just a… curiosity, I suppose.” William grins. “But it works for us. It’s a gift. _You’re_ a gift.”

“You, my man, are _fucked up_ ,” Tony mutters.

William’s face contorts with rage and he backhands Tony across the face. “Watch your mouth,” he hisses. “What do you know of our burden, our struggle?”

“I know that it’s fucking wrong to kill people,” Tony retorts. “And it’s even worse when you’re re-enacting some sort of Wickerman fantasy.”

William shakes his head. “You’re wrong,” he insists. “But it’s okay. What you say doesn’t matter, because you’ll be dead soon, and my town will be safe again.” His face sets with determination. “I will do whatever it takes to keep my people safe, no matter what you think.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

Tony breathes a sigh of relief when hears Bucky’s trademark drawl. His strapping assassin jumps down from the ceiling, landing on the balls of his feet. He stalks forward in what Tony affectionately names _murder strut_ , the barrel of his gun aimed at William, and Tony has the inappropriate urge, especially considering his current bondage, to ride those thighs of betrayal.

_Dear God, I have blue balls._

He plasters the barrel against William’s temple. “I suggest you don’t move,” he says, grimly.

“How-” William swallows hard. “How did you find us? The narcotic I slipped into your drink should’ve kept you down for _hours_.”

Bucky gives him a savage grin. “I’m a little more durable than most men.” He nudges with his gun. “Now, get against the wall, quietly, and I may be tempted not to shoot ya, got it?”

William grits his teeth, but does as Bucky says, planting himself against the wall. Bucky aims the gun at him with one hand, while striding over to where Tony is tied, his knife going for the rope.

“Bucky!”

Tony shouts when William lunges, perhaps thinking Bucky weak when his back was turned, but Bucky’s reflexes were a thing to be admired, and he knocks a bullet off, right into William’s thigh, which makes him scream and sink to the floor, blood pooling around him in a steady trickle.

“Holy shit!”

“You shot me!” William cried out, disbelievingly.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “I told you what I’d do if you moved from the wall, didn’t I?” He rolls his eyes and approaches Tony, flipping the knife between his fingers.

It takes him entirely too long to cut the rope.

“Oh, my God,” Tony hisses. “Aren’t you like the greatest assassin the world’s ever seen? Why are you struggling _so much_  with a stupid knot?” 

Bucky scowls down at him. “Hey, I don’t see _you_ helping out. Didn’t you escape from a cave in Afghanistan from real terrorists by building a weaponised suit of armour? Why are you _still_  tied up?” 

Tony narrows his eyes. “Oh, fuck you, Manchurian Agent.”

Bucky snorts. “We tried that already, remember? Was super unfulfilling.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony snorts. He tugs on the rope. “Hurry the fuck up before the rest of the village people surround us.”

Finally, the knife cuts through the rope and Tony falls onto his heel with a sigh and an ache in his hamstrings and wrists.

Bucky smooths a hand over Tony’s hair, his face etched with fondness. “You okay, babe?”

Tony nods, leaning into the touch as something inside in him melts in relief and helplessness. “Yeah, I’m good,” he says, roughly. He eyes William gasping on the floor in pain. “What do we do with _him_?” he asks, disgusted. “In fact, what do we do with _all_ of them? They’re all fucking lunatics.”

“I say we get the hell out of dodge, and send SHIELD in, guns blazing,” Bucky says, coldly. “That’s the least these fundamentalist bastards deserve.”

Tony nods into Bucky’s chest. “I’m on board with that.”

Bucky attempts to drag him out of the cellar where William was keeping him, hand firmly on his hip.

“Wait! Don’t leave me!” William shouts. “I’ll bleed out if you leave me here.”

Bucky rounds on him. “And were you that merciful for the forty-eight people you sacrificed because you delusional morons _actually_ thought the earth or God or who-the-fuck-ever was punishing your town? Why should I do anything to help you?”

“Please. _Please_ ,” is all that William can gasp out, his face bulging with agony.

Bucky sighs and looks at Tony. “What d’you think we should do, doll?”

Tony bites his lip. “Well, you _were_ going to kill me, but then it’d just give me nightmares if I let you die here, like you deserve. So, I’m going to call an ambulance for you, let them deal with you, and we’re going to leave. Understood?” He doesn’t wait for William to reply and grips Bucky’s wrist. “My suit’s upstairs. Let’s get the fuck out of here and let SHIELD deal with this, like they should’ve in the goddamn beginning instead of wasting our precious time to deal with homicidal crazy people.”

Bucky nods. “After you.”

“Joy,” Tony mutters.

* * *

Tony and Bucky sit in their penthouse apartment, their feet kicked up onto the coffee table, as they drink from a cool pitcher of iced tea. The TV is ripe with the news of an _entire_ town taken into custody for the mass murder of forty-eight people.

“All I’m saying is that I’m glad the mission went well and everything, and they all got arrested, but I just don’t want to ever do the road trip thing again for a mission.”

Bucky sighs. “I know. You’ve told me. Multiple times. Again, you’re such a drama queen,” he complains.

“You knew that about me when you started dating me. Don’t act like it’s just occurred to you.” Tony wags his finger. He frowns. “Don’t you still owe me last-day-alive sex?”

“I’m done,” Bucky declares and jumps to his feet.

“Rude. So rude,” Tony huffs.


End file.
